Short Sara Stories

Backseat Driver

My mom has backseat driver tendencies.  So do I.  And while it's happening sooner than I expected, so does Sara.  She recently learned about traffic lights at school, and she doesn't hesitate to announce what I'm supposed to do as we approach any intersection with a stoplight.  If she sees green, she says, "You better go, Mom."  If she sees yellow, she says, "Yellow means slow down."  If she sees red, she says, "You have to stop, Mom."  Right turn on red?  NO WAY.  Yield to through-traffic while making a left turn on green?  NO WAY.  To her, it's all black and white.  Or red and green, to be more precise.

I Don't Think So
Sara has discovered the phrase, "I don't think so," and she's gotten good at using it in context.  It's not as defiant as "NO" and it implies that she's thought through something before coming to a decision.  While it's cute, it's starting to get in the way here and there.  For example, when I ask Sara to clean up some toys, she'll say, "Hmmm ... I don't think so."  You know, as if she has something better to do.  When I ask whether she wants to get out of bed in the mornings, she usually doesn't think so.  The biggest issue is that when I ask her a question that is typically more of a request than an actual question, I, for one, "do think so" regarding the task at hand.   So you can see how we end up at a bit of a crossroads (which is a nice way to say power struggle).

What Kind?
I remember hearing people talk about the "but, why?" phase that kids go through.  Sara's in the "what kind?" phase, which I imagine to be similar.  Driving home from school lately, we have enjoyed looking at all of the Christmas decorations.  We recently had a conversation that went like this:
Sara: "I see a snowman, Mom."
Me: "Wow, I see it, too!"
Sara: "What kind of snowman is it?"
Me: "A white snowman."
Sara: "What kind of white snowman?"
Me: "A big, white snowman."
Sara: "What kind of big, white snowman?"
Me: "A nice, big, white snowman."
Sara: "What kind of nice, big, white snowman?"
... You get the picture.  Many of our conversations go on and on like this.  Once in a while I'm lucky enough to stumble across the jackpot answer that Sara deems satisfactory and she'll say, "Ooohhh, okay," as if saying, "Now I get it.  You should have just said that the first time." 
P.S. Yes, we live in Texas.  The snowman was inflatable.